You Make Me Weak, Mr Wick
by Coffee to go
Summary: Sequel to "Anything For You, Mrs Wick". His wife still refuses to come back to him. John pays her another visit to change her mind.


**A/N: I'm still not over John Wick and had to write more. This is the second part to _Anything for you, Mrs Wick._**

**WARNING: pure smut**

* * *

She was upstairs in the bedroom, putting on a few finishing touches of her make-up in front of the mirror.

She took one last look at herself. The long black evening gown appeared to be a bit too conservative at first glance with its long sleeves despite the sinful slit in the front from her hips all the way down, but it was cut so low in the back that it left her entire back bare.

She loved that dress. It was hot enough to seduce someone, but not too revealing that she would feel self-concious. Because tonight she needed all the confidence she could muster.

She smiled at her reflection and was about to apply her red lipstick when she had the feeling that she was not alone in the dark and silent house. Someone was downstairs.

Quickly, she strapped on the black heels, grabbed her small evening purse and straightened her shoulders. With bated breath she slipped down the staircase and strode bravely through the archway.

And there he was in her dimly-lit kitchen. Dressed impeccably as always in his dark three-piece suit, hair gelled back. Intense chocolate eyes staring straight into hers.

If he only knew what effect he had on her.

Emily's hands were sweaty at the sight of him, her legs shaky. Now she wasn't feeling as confident anymore. Still, she was the first to speak up.

"How did you get in? Please don't tell me you broke the lock on my back door..."

"I still have the keys." He said gently, taking them out of his pants' pocket and placing them next to his gun on the counter.

His knuckles were bruised again; goosebumps formed on her skin. "Oh... right. Of course."

He took a few steps towards her, his eyes taking her in, raking over her, admiring the way the dress accentuated every curve of her body. She saw him press his lips into a thin line and gulp, as if he was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

Instinctively, she took one step back, but then forced herself to keep still and not show her weakness.

"On your way out?" His rough voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yeah... I'm meeting friends for dinner. You come from work?" Her eyes darted to the gun on her kitchen island then back to his bloodied knuckles. As always, she was equally scared and turned on after he had done a job and she got to witness this side to him, the side he usually tried to keep away from her as far as possible.

"Yes." He simply replied, hiding his hands in his pockets as if that way his wife would forget that the man standing before her was an assassin.

"I'm here because..." He paused until she lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. "I don't like how things ended between us last week."

He saw the guilt in her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use you like that, I just panicked... I don't mean to play hot and cold with you, John."

Her words surprised him. Whatever residue of anger he felt after she had fucked him and then dumped him again was gone, had evaporated. He pondered his next words carefully.

"Right now you think the safest option for you is to be with him, I get that." He stated calmly, taking another step closer, his deep husky voice seemed to reverberate within her. "But when I'm done with this life for good, I expect you to come back to me."

She melted on the spot. "John..." She whispered softly, and surprised him again by stepping towards him and closing the distance between them. Carelessly, she dropped her purse, her hands slipped underneath his suit jacket, palms stroking his broad chest, feeling for all the muscle underneath all the layers of clothing.

She bit her bottom lip, looking up at him. He saw his own raw hunger, the desire he felt mirrored in her eyes.

"You don't have to seduce me, John, I'm already seduced. That's the problem. You can't even imagine how weak you make me..." She ended breathlessly, feeling her chest tighten when she realized that he was holding himself back, that he feared to scare her with his strength and feral aggressiveness.

He placed one hand on the small of her back, feeling bare skin to his surprise. His fingertips glided slowly up her back, along her spine, eliciting goosebumps.

"Damn..." He breathed out when he reached her shoulder blades. His large hand enveloped the back of her neck, fingers curling into her hair; he tilted her head back as he roughly pressed his mouth on hers. Emily moaned into the kiss, immediately parting her lips for him and letting his tongue in.

Her hands moved down his chest and worked his pants open. She reached into his briefs blindly and closed her fist around him. He was rock-hard, hot and heavy in her small hand. She felt her walls clench; her body ready to take him in no time.

John grabbed her wrist and pried her hold off him, not allowing her stroke him this time either. Impatiently, he gripped her hips and spun her around, bending her over the kitchen counter.

She gasped, having not expected him to manhandle her like that. She felt his erection press against her ass as she held herself up on her elbows, his fingers dipping into the slit of her dress, pads sliding up her stocking-covered thighs to the laced seam.

Emily heard him curse under his breath when he discovered the matching black garter belt and lace panties she wore underneath her gown. She chuckled softly, feeling proud of herself.

"It's for you, John. I dressed like this for you, I wanted to come to you... after dinner." She stuttered, pressing back against him, urging him on.

John placed soft kisses to her temple, cheek, jaw, further down her neck, fingers slipping into her underwear to test how ready she was for him only to discover that she was soaking wet. She heard him curse again, her smile grew bigger.

"You're trying to kill me here, babe..." His voice cracked, all restraint gone. He pressed her even more into the counter as he pushed the skirt of her dress up to her hips. He didn't even bother with her underwear, and just pushed her soaked through panties aside, spread her folds with the head of his length and shoved into her with one forceful thrust.

"Fuck..." She exclaimed, hands scrambling desperately for the edge of the counter to hold on to as he started a rapid pace. He took her with hard thrusts, the bastard, pushing every delicious inch of his hard length into her in one go, driving her insane.

It burned slightly as her body tried to accommodate him, but it only added to her pleasure. He filled her to the brim, hitting all the right spots. His large frame behind her, pressing close to her made her feel small and vulnerable.

With him it was so easy for a woman to lose her last ounce of dignity. He _made _you want to lose it. He was dangerous. She should have known better, but it was too late. She was already married to the man.

Emily still bore faint marks from their last time together and his iron grip was bruising her hips again as he dragged her onto his cock over and over again. She moaned and whimpered, clutching the cool surface of the counter.

He stilled inside her for a moment, pushing her ass even closer to him, forcing her further up the counter until she was arching her back more, straining on her tip-toes. Even in heels he was so much larger than her, she could barely keep herself upright. If it wasn't for the counter in front of her and him behind her, she would have slumped to the floor.

He changed the angle slightly and started moving again, with deeper and longer thrusts, hitting her most sensitive spot with each stroke now.

"Fuck, oh God..." She bit her lip, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

John felt her tighten more around him, causing him to thrust harder to sheath himself completely. "That's it, darling, just like that... you're squeezing me so good, darling, so good..." He breathed hotly into her hair and bit teasingly into her earlobe, pulling at the soft flesh with his teeth.

She whimpered, feeling herself become wetter, her swollen clit begging for attention. Knowing John could easily handle her weight, she managed to squeeze one arm underneath her and press her fingers to her swollen nub, but John stopped moving immediately when he saw what she was doing. He grabbed her wrist and forced her arm back up on the counter.

"John..." She whined, pressing the back of her head against his shoulder, rubbing against his chest pleadingly. "Please."

"Not yet." He rasped, kissing her neck in comfort. He didn't trust her though. One hand kept her wrists pinned down on the counter in case she tried to finish herself off too quickly and his arm wrapped around her waist. He moved slower inside her as if to punish her for her bad behaviour, her insubordination.

She turned her head to kiss along his jaw, his beard prickled her lips. His chest rumbled with his low groans and growls, making her shudder against him.

The front door opened and closed loudly, footsteps sounding through the hallway, coming closer. They both froze. Then they heard her boyfriend call for her as he moved through the house.

"John, stop." She whispered quietly in panic, adrenaline coursing through her veins at the danger of being caught.

"No way." He protested, resuming his thrusts like nothing happened, as if they were alone.

"He'll hear us, John... John..." She pleaded with him and squeezed her eyes shut, gnawing at her bottom lip to not make a sound.

It didn't help that she felt herself getting closer to her release. And her boyfriend was just around the corner.

John growled angrily and buried his face in her neck, littering her skin with bruising kisses to distract her. He didn't give a fuck. That guy who had stolen his wife from him could walk in on them for all he cared. A part of him wanted him to find them. But he would never expose Emily to that sort of humiliation on purpose.

She moaned loudly and John was quick to cover her mouth with his hand. She shuddered, feeling completely helpless underneath him.

"Keep it down, baby. We're not alone." He breathed in her ear, amusement clear in his tone. He licked the shell of her ear, teeth grazing teasingly. "I know you're close. Just let go."

Emily whined into his palm, tears prickling her eyes at the intensity of the situation. She thought she would never come with the distraction in the house, but the way John held her down so easily, the weight of his big body crushing her, his large hand clamping over her mouth only fueled her arousal. She felt John's anger at the disturbance like flames licking at her skin, and the thrill of being caught combined with John's hard punishing thrusts deep inside her brought her to her climax.

She came hard, her cries of pleasure muffled by his warm hand as she shook against him.

John gritted his teeth, holding back his groans and his own release as her pussy clenched and spasmed around him, milking him almost violently.

Through the haze of a thick fog, John noticed that his rival had given up and left. The front door shut closed behind him.

He pulled his hand from Emily's mouth and pressed his fingers on her clit instead, fucking her through her orgasm and stimulating her swollen nub. Now she could be as loud as she wanted to.

The tension built even more, his cock filling her so perfectly, his skilled fingers prolonging her orgasm until it morphed into another one. Her second climax took her by surprise and she screamed, dropping her head to the cold surface of the counter.

John rubbed her through it until she stopped shaking and then quickly left her body as he threatened to spill his seed, remembering that they forgot to use a condom again.

He was about to come on her lower back when Emily suddenly turned around, fell to her knees in front of him and took him in her mouth, sucking hard at the tip. Her hand worked the rest of his length and then she took him further in, letting him coat her tongue with his release.

His cock was obscenely wet with her slickness, and she clenched her thighs, feeling a string of arousal trickle down her skin and her cheeks burned in embarrassment. She could only imagine how soaking wet she must have felt against his bare flesh, but quickly reminded herself that John loved it. He loved her completely desperate and dripping for him with arousal. The thought made her shudder.

John twisted his hands in her hair, tugging sharply at the strands as he struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep watching her. She licked him clean, catching every drop with her tongue.

She revelled in the way he growled above her possessively, chest rumbling with pride and satisfaction like an animal with his prey that he had spent hours hunting. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy her hot mouth, the swipe of her soft tongue against his overstimulated flesh for a few more seconds.

When she finally let up, he was breathing heavily. "Fuck... that's my girl." He whispered hoarsely and cupped her cheek gently. When she looked up at him, he smiled at her.

His hand was warm and gentle in her hair, massaging her scalp. Emily pressed her face into his thigh, rubbing her nose against the soft fabric of his pants, sighing quietly. "You still got the stamina, John... good Lord."

John caressed her head, holding her close to him. "I'm doing my best."

He chuckled quietly when she pinched his thigh in response. "Shut up. You know how good you are."

"Can you get up, darling?"

"No."

He pulled her up against him and took her in his arms. "Are you alright?" He asked, his dark eyes soft but intense in the dim light, looking down at her.

She nodded, pushing closer to him, hands twisting into his shirt. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue dipped into her mouth and he tasted himself with a hint of her sweet arousal. He loved the taste of their combined juices. He hummed in delight and stepped away from her, causing her to slump back against the counter.

John handed her a wet towel before he cleaned himself up quickly, tucking his length back in and closing his pants. He ran a hand through his dishevelled, sweaty hair.

"Shit, my panties are a mess. I have to go get changed before dinner." Emily groaned.

"Let me help you with that." Before she could realize what he meant, John had hooked his fingers into the thin lace and torn them off her hips. "There you go."

"Fuck... you really gonna let me go out to dinner without any undergarments?" She challenged, shooting him a devious smile before turning her back on him to put on her red lipstick with the help of the shiny chrome surface of the oven.

His large calloused hand stroked up her naked back, resting heavily at the nape of her neck. "Oh you're not going anywhere tonight." His gruff voice sent a shiver down her spine. She gulped, slowly turning to face him.

"Let's not argue, please. I'm sorry for the way I acted, but my friends are waiting. I'll come by after dinner, I promise. That's what I've been planning all along, I wanted to come to you and seduce you. Now you've ruined that for me, Mr Wick." She said mock-accusatorily, seeing the hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as John's eyes wandered down her body once more.

"I wouldn't say that." He muttered under his breath. She stepped away from him, but he suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her back to his chest. "You know, darling, if you don't come to me, I'm coming after you, right?"

"Yes, sir. I wouldn't expect anything less." She breathed out, meeting his dark intense gaze. "Don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

He let her go, pacified by her answer, and she gave him one last smile before she disappeared out the kitchen.

* * *

Emily arrived at the restaurant only a half-hour late. As she rushed in, she slowed her steps, coming to a halt before her friends could see her.

She didn't have much of an appetite, but felt more of a hunger for something else entirely... the prospect of sitting here while he was waiting for her at home seemed unbearable. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep her focus all night when she would much rather be somewhere else; under John Wick for example, or on top of John Wick or...

She shook her head to get rid of her dirty thoughts and walked over to her friends' table. Her appearance gave her away, her feverish face, messy hair and wrinkled dress; they believed her when she said she didn't feel good and had to head back home and rest.

John closed the door to his empty house, leaning with a heavy sigh against it. Dog stormed into the hallway and greeted him as enthusiastically as always. He caressed him, feeling a bit comforted, and gave the dog its dinner before shuffling upstairs to undress.

He doubted that she would come to him. The only thing he could give to her was money and a good fuck, nothing more. Even if he managed to get out somehow, he would always remain an assassin, a fucking killer. He had come to terms with that, but he couldn't put this burden on another person.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket, tossed his gun on the bed, undid his tie and stretched the sore muscles in his back with a groan. He was unbuttoning his navy shirt when Dog started barking up a storm and a second later he heard the doorbell.

He rushed downstairs, opened the door and found her standing on the other side. Looking beautiful and thoroughly fucked.

Her smile faded as her eyes took him in, her jaw going slack at the sight of him in a half-dressed state, but still so dark and dangerous in his black pants and unbuttoned shirt. "Damn, Mr Wick... you trying to bring me to my knees again?"

John pulled her roughly inside, pressing his mouth to hers hungrily as if he hadn't fucked her brains out not even an hour ago. He let go of her, only to throw her swiftly over his shoulder with ease to drag her to his bed.

Emily had chosen to come to the devil willingly. She knew she was playing with fire, but this time she was prepared to get burned.


End file.
